there is no safe way out

i want to crawl out of myself
but the door is locked from the inside

there’s no metaphor today.
just nerves screaming

as if acid-dipped

everything hurts.
not beautifully,
just constantly.
in the

fuck this
get out of my bones
what did i do to deserve this
kind of way.

i am not strong.
not right now.
i am not a survivor or a phoenix.
i am a body on fire
with no water in reach.

i want to say
“this too shall pass”
but i’ve been stuck in this same breath
for what feels like years with no air.

this isn’t a chapter in a memoir.
this is the part no one quotes.
this is the silence between screams.
the ugly stillness.
the lying flat.
the bargaining with the ceiling.

i don’t care about morning.
i don’t care about progress.
i don’t want inspiration
or silver linings
or a single goddamn person
telling me how “strong” i am.

i want my body back.
the one before it turned on me.
the one that didn’t feel like punishment
without an ounce of grace or mercy.

i want to disappear
but my skin has claws.
i want to scream
but it rips through muscle like wire.
i want someone to look at me
but i know it would split me open.

there’s no meaning here.
no message.
just a body
burning on its own timeline
with no exit wound
and no one to blame.

T.M.